


Fuck you.

by dizzyhazzy (peachybabyhaz)



Category: One Direction
Genre: Bottom Harry, Hate Sex, M/M, Top Zayn, louis stood Harry up smh, metions of Louis and Gigi lmao, they hate each other, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachybabyhaz/pseuds/dizzyhazzy
Summary: "I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you." Zayn whispered, beginning to pant as he rested his arms down beside Harry's head to support his own weight."Y-You hate me b-but.. you're fucking me so g-good, oh," The green eyed boy managed to stammer out, eyes shut and legs wrapped tightly around Zayn's waist.So this is what hate sex was like.





	Fuck you.

**Author's Note:**

> creds to @femaleharry on Twitter for saying this 
> 
> "Zayn whispering i hate you while slamming harrys prostate and all you hear is harry crying and nodding"
> 
> slopily written soz

Harry was supposed to meet up with Louis today, but to his surprise (not really) he didn't show up when Harry appeared in the hotel lobby. Yes, they agreed to meet up at a hotel. Yes, they were supposed to have sex. Kinky sex, in fact, Harry packed a dildo in his man purse. Harry waited, and waited, and waited. But nothing. Louis was about three hours late now and Harry couldn't stop checking his rose gold watch and clicking the power button on his rose gold iphone and — He really loved rose gold. He decided to just get a room since he wasn't leaving any time soon, and as soon as he got the card to the door he rushed into the elevator, sending Louis a text message that said "Fuck you for not fucking me, love you dearly. H" to Louis, and clearing his throat awkwardly.

Before the elevator doors could close, a tattooed hand waved in front of the doors to get them to stop as he stepped in. Harry didn't bother to glance his way, since a blonde woman followed him inside and he didn't really care much for taken men, but that was until they began to talk. Harry's nose scrunched up as he put his head down, he knew exactly who they were.

Zayn and Gigi.

Gigi got off a few floors before Zayn, and it was so awkward being alone in the elevator with him. But Harry had to admit, he looked towards Zayn and noticed that his beard has grown thicker and he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like against his skin. Zayn cleared his throat loudly, which startled Harry and caused him to jump a bit but Harry turned around to face the wall. He didn't want Zayn to talk to him and he definitely didn't want to talk to Zayn. 

But Zayn grabbed his arm, turned him around, and stared him straight in the eyes.

"Why don't you answer my calls?"

Harry's eyes were filled with tears, he was like a volcano ready to explode and he could feel every inch of his body trembling. "I fucking hate you."

"Why." Zayn tried to make Harry look at him by tilting his head in whatever direction Harry was looking in, but Harry kept turning and his cheeks were turning red. Zayn grabbed Harry's other arm and squeezed, gently, because he didn't want to hurt the boy but it seems as if Harry isn't over what he's done. "Why.. do you fucking hate me?"

"None of your business. Stop touching me." He tried to shake him off, and to his luck the elevator doors open and he stomped out and down the hall to get to his room. But Zayn was following him, his footsteps picking up as Harry's did. Harry was trying his best not to cry so he avoided blinking just so that tears wouldn't roll down his cheeks — he paused, inhaled, stopped and turned around. "Stop following me. You've left me once. Why don't you go ahead and leave me again?" His voice was laced with hurt, and even seeing Zayn made his whole body ache with sadness and made him anxious, jittery. 

"Harry, stop." 

"N-No. You've fucked me over and I'm not letting you do it again. Leave me alone. Go to your room and be with that blonde bimbo you call a girlfriend." He approached the door to his room and that's when Zayn's footsteps stopped right behind him, and as soon as Harry opened the door, Zayn looked around before grabbing onto his arm once more and pushing him inside. He just needed a few minutes to talk to Harry. But Harry is a stubborn one, he needed to get through to him. Harry gasped and pulled his arm away from Zayn in a rather aggressive way, and Zayn just closed the door behind them. 

"What the f-fuck is wrong with you?! You can leave everything that has to do with me but you barged into my fucking hotel room? Get out, get out." Harry took his backpack off of his back and held it up as if he was about to swing, hit Zayn right in the face to knock him out and then leave his limp body somewhere. But Zayn gave him that look, the one of concern with those beautiful honey colored eyes that Harry.. hated. So much. Harry blinked, tears falling down his face as he looked around and dropped his backpack on the floor. 

"I. Didn't. Want. To leave you. I needed to leave the band. To get away from there. They controlled our lives, Harry. They controlled our freedom of speech and they basically abused us. It wasn't to hurt you."

"For three nights after you left.. I always called you at one am a-and you answered but you let me cry in silence. Do you know how it is to- t-to pour your heart out to a person who won't even respond to you?!" Harry paused, gulped, clenched and unclenched his fists before he continued, "It hurts. It fucking hurts and I fucking hate you so get the fuck out of my room, okay?!"

Zayn stood there, shaking his head as he began to cry himself but with a single inhale, all urges to cry were gone but he gripped Harry's shoulder and pressed their lips together. Harry was crying, about to burst out into sobs but he cupped Zayn's cheeks and scratched at his thick beard before his hands went to the back of his head and his fingers tangled themselves in his hair. They weren't supposed to be kissing, they hate each other, but maybe Zayn hates Harry a little less than Harry hates him.

It was hot, messy, Harry was tugging on Zayn's hair and Zayn was nipping at Harry's plush lower lip to let his tongue explore his mouth but Harry was whimpering and squirming and keeping his lips pressed together until Zayn picked him up and threw him on the bed. Harry laid there, staring up at Zayn with tears in his eyes and his cheeks as red as a fucking strawberry but he was quickly taking off his pants. They looked so tight but Harry took them off with ease, Zayn was watching and Harry continued to look at him. With those pink lips that Zayn absolutely couldn't fucking stand. "Fuck you." He grumbled as he removed his belt to pull down his own pants and crawl on top of Harry. He ran his hands up and down Harry's thighs, the pale skin looking absolutely ravishing against the white bed sheets. 

"Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you." Harry repeated back, shaking his head as he leaned up towards Zayn for another kiss. Zayn tried to wipe away Harry's tears but they just kept coming, and Harry was gasping for air but he couldn't get enough of Zayn's lips. The taste, he hated it so much. Hated it so much that he wanted more of it and couldn't get enough of it. They're kissing, half naked, Zayn is on top of Harry and this is really happening.

"I hate it when you yell at me. I hate it when you tell me that you hate me." Zayn mumbled against Harry's lips as his fingers made their way to the waistband of Harry's boxers. He pulled them off quickly, breaking the kiss for a solid moment just to stare deep into his enemies eyes. "I just wanted to explain, but you have to be fucking stubborn and I can't stand that." He moved away and brought his hand up to Harry's mouth, and Harry knew exactly what to do. Spit. 

Harry did so, and Zayn pulled off his boxers and covered his cock in Harry's saliva. They always used to do this, since Harry is always so tight and neither of them carried lube on a daily basis, they used the next best thing. Harry's spit. He leaned closer to the green eyed boy to nudge their noses together and bump foreheads as Harry winced at the feeling of Zayn's tip prodding at his hole and then slipping in without warning, and Harry wrapped his legs around Zayn's waist and let out a squeaky whimper. Zayn remembered that sound. Always happened when they were about to have sex.

But this was different, as Zayn was thrusting and Harry was crying uncontrollably with gasps and sobs mixed with moans and whimpers escaping his lips, they mumbled words of hate. Fuck you, asshole, son of a bitch. All of the above. But as Zayn was hitting Harry's prostate dead-on, Harry's back was arching off of the bed and his moans turned into short gasps. His hair, matted down with sweat against his forehead and his eyes red, cheeks pink, lips swollen. He looked beautiful and Zayn fucking hated it.

Zayn kept pressing soft kisses against Harry's skin, Harry squirming from the way Zayn's thick beard tickled his skin. Zayn leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." And all Harry could do was nod, crying still, his breathing uneven and it was clear that they were both close to their highs. Zayn pushed Harry's hair away from his forehead and pressed a tender kiss right in the middle, Harry looking up at him with those big green eyes that Zayn couldn't stand. "S-So good.. you hate me, but.. o-oh, god." Harry was really close, Zayn could tell by his body language and he quickened the pace of his thrusts just so Harry could finish first. Like always. 

But then Harry cupped his cheeks and stared him straight in the eye, whispering quietly. "I love you."

Then he released, body jerking forward as he wrapped his arms around Zayn's neck, they were chest to chest and Zayn honestly wouldn't want it any other way as he himself released inside of Harry. Harry was still crying, and Zayn was even crying at this point, but he manage to whisper back, "I love you too," as he wrapped a blanket around both of them, Harry shifting so that he could sit on his lap correctly and they didn't move until they've both calmed down and stopped crying, and if Zayn tried to pull out, Harry would cry harder because of the empty feeling. 

And a few hours later, they were both asleep. Holding hands as they slept. Because they fucking hate each other.


End file.
